


Hoodie On

by goldkirk



Series: Shutterbug [7]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Damian takes in animals the way Bruce takes in orphans, Dick Grayson is a Ray of Sunshine, Gen, They're all messes a little bit but they love each other and are constantly trying their best anyway, sneaky puppy acquisition, which is to say spur of the moment with deep emotional attachment and a bleeding heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldkirk/pseuds/goldkirk
Summary: Anon on tumblr asked for a fic where Damian tries to smuggle a puppy into the house in his hoodie pocket. Here it is.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Series: Shutterbug [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1575793
Comments: 77
Kudos: 1030
Collections: Bat Hugs, everybody loves dick





	Hoodie On

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS JUST A DELIGHTFUL CONCEPT IN EVERY WAY THANK YOU ANON

When Damian pops the passenger side door open and tries to slide into the seat more awkwardly than usual after his volunteer hours at Five Acres, Dick stares, squints, stares harder, and then closes his eyes and sighs. He cannot laugh. He can’t. 

Damian catches Dick looking again, and he hunches over a little further, bundled up in an oversized hoodie–probably one of Tim’s. Damian’s eyes dare Dick to say something. To just _try it, Grayson, I dare you._

Dick shakes his head, and allows himself a grin as he turns to face the road and shifts the car out of park. 

“Fine,” he says, barely-contained laughter coloring his voice. “But I know nothing. My lips are sealed. I won’t be your back-up when Bruce finds out. And in return,” he says, glancing sideways at his youngest brother for a split second. “I also don’t rat you out if Bruce doesn’t notice right away.”

“Deal,” Damian says, firmly. “He will not. I am thoroughly trained in deception and espionage.”

“You’re a thirteen-year-old kid,” Dick snorts. “You may have skills, but Bruce has been doing this since before you were born. I give it two days, max.”

“Four,” snarls Damian, doubling it immediately. (Dick knows younger brothers, and younger brothers are unfailingly competitive when it comes to their honor. Pushing Damian’s buttons, in particular, is almost too easy.) He looks down at the lump in his hoodie for a brief moment. “Or I’ll wipe down your gymnastics equipment for the rest of the week.”

Dick whistles, and flicks his blinker on as he approaches the turn that will set them onto the highway ramp. “That’s a good deal,” he says. “And what if both of us are wrong, hm? Do we call it square, or do we concede to the one who was closer?”

“I will not be wrong.”

“But suppose you are. Hypothetically. And I’m wrong too.”

Damian sighs, just barely. It’s a little puff through his nose, but it’s more than he allowed a year ago, so Dick silently celebrates it as a win. 

_“If,”_ Damian bites out, “we are both wrong. Then it is as you say. We will…call it square. But if _I_ am right,” he adds, narrowing his eyes at Dick, who fights the urge to grin, “then you must help me to feed it. Every few hours, all week.”

“Oh no,” Dick says, breaking into a smile and ruffling Damian’s hair while one hand stays firmly on the wheel. “What a cruel and unusual punishment. How would I ever survive? Please, sir, I beg you. _Anything_ but THAT.”

“Shut up, Grayson,” Damian mutters. “I am trying to be _nice_. You are the one who asks it of me every day. Would you prefer I demand you join me for one on one sword training?”

Dick shuts up and drives, but he doesn’t stop grinning for three miles. 

Damian told him to _shut up._ Oh man. Jason is going to be so proud. 

* * *

As it is, the odds are not in their favor. Dick parks the car in the garage next to Bruce’s favorite Audi, and they walk through the door into the manor straight into Bruce’s line of sight. To his credit, Damian doesn’t even falter in his steps, though Dick sees the tension shoot like lightning through his whole body before he forces muscles to relax. 

Dick is now just here for the show. If Jason weren’t off at school, he’d sign at him to go get popcorn. 

Bruce looks at them over the top of his reading glasses that have slidden halfway down his nose. He still holds a few Wayne Enterprises reports half-off the table in one hand. 

“Damian,” Bruce says. 

“Father,” Damian replies evenly. 

“Did you have a good shift?” 

“Yes, Father. Annie’s leg healed enough for her to go on a walk today.”

“And I assume you were the one to take her out?” Bruce says. He doesn’t quite smile, but there’s a definite softening at the edges of his lips. Dick isn’t sure who’s being buttered up into false relaxation more by this conversation, Damian or Bruce. 

“Yes. It was…very enjoyable,” Damian admits. And man, Dick is just? So proud? Of his littlest brother? It’s been a long, long road over the past year to help Damian learn to pause, consider, and label what he feels, instead of just shoving it to the side and never checking in with himself at all. He may not have dealt with the emotional impacts of trauma before coming to join the family, but he also did not get to really experience plain old enjoyment and calm before that, either. He’s already come so far.

Dick can’t wait to see how much Damian will have grown in a few more years. 

“That’s wonderful,” Bruce says warmly. “Anything else interesting?”

“Not particularly. Several more dogs and cats were adopted out today to new homes. The advertisement strategy you suggested continues to be satisfactorily effective.”

“Mm,” says Bruce. “You should let Tim know, too–he was a good chunk of the brains behind that, you remember.”

Damian glances to the side, arms making an aborted motion to jerk away from where he has them crossed lightly over the middle of his enormous hoodie. Bruce’s face gives away no sign of whether or not he has noticed the hoodie’s occasional shakes and twitches yet. 

“I will…” Damian starts, then pauses. “I will tell Timothy about the campaign’s success later tonight. His input was. Useful.”

“Good,” Bruce says, earnest and gentle. Damian doesn’t tense up at that anymore. “I’m very proud of you, Damian. You’re working hard on a lot of things with emotions right now, and I know none of this is easy for you, especially dealing with people. I want you to know that I see how much you’re trying, and you’re doing a good job.”

Dick can see the flush hitting the tips of Damian’s ears from where he’s standing behind the kid. He tries not to smile fondly, but ends up with what he’s sure is a sappy look on his face anyway. 

“It is not–” Damian begins, hotly, before he stops and takes several deep breaths. His shoulders drop down an inch once more, and he looks back at Bruce. 

“Thank you, Father,” Damian says. “I am. _Pleased_ that your opinion is so favorable of me. I will not let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Bruce says, smiling warmly. “Damian. Habibi. You are my son. I am always proud of you. I hope you can remember that.”

“I will try,” Damian says tightly. Dick suspects his eyes are probably wet, even though the little scoundrel always tries to ignore those cues as if they’ll cease to exist if he just turns away. Damian turns to continue on into the manor. “I am tired,” he says, offhand. A valiant attempt at casual. “I am going to draw before supper.”

“Sounds good,” says Bruce. He shuffles a few papers around, and looks back down, shoving his glasses up his nose. 

Dick takes a few steps, trailing right behind Damian. They make it to the doorway leading into the hallway when Bruce’s voice stops them in their tracks. 

“Oh, boys?” he says, tone light. 

Damian has frozen, but clearly is refusing to give the jig up before he’s confronted outright. 

“Father?” Damian queries, innocently.

Dick narrowly manages to choke down a laugh before he adds, “Yeah, Bruce?”

“I suggest you look in the storage room on the third floor for some of Titus’ old supplies if you’re planning on keeping that puppy in Damian’s pocket. If it’s small enough to fit in there, I assume it needs bottle feeding still.”

Damian _whirls_. 

“You mean I can–”

“You’ve proven yourself a responsible animal keeper with Titus and Batcow so far, and you trained Titus as well as any of our other dogs. If you want to take on the responsibility of raising another puppy, well.” Bruce folds his reading glasses and sets them neatly on the table in front of him. “I’m not going to stop you. It’s not like we don’t have the room.”

“Thank you, Father,” Damian says, fervently. “I promise I will not neglect any of the animals’ care. And I will housebreak the puppy as soon as possible.” Damian gently slides his hands into the hoodie pocket and eases the tiny ball of fur out, cradling it to his chest like a–well. A baby. 

Bruce smiles softly and waves a hand in dismissal. “As long as your schoolwork and sleep don’t suffer, there won’t be a problem. Now go. Get the little one settled in, there’s only an hour or so before Alfred will be calling us all for dinner.”

“Yes _sir,”_ Damian says, and he hurries out of the room. 

“Dick,” Bruce says then, halting Dick in his tracks before he can follow suit. Dick turns and looks at Bruce, wondering if he’s about to get the Look. 

“Bruce,” Dick says. He swallows involuntarily. 

“Good job,” Bruce says, pushing back from the table and stepping towards Dick. “I know how hard you work with him. He’s much more relaxed. And you made the right call, not sending him to put the puppy back. I’m not mad.”

“Oh,” Dick says, relieved, and feeling a little small, and young, and–

“I see how hard _you’re_ working too,” and Bruce smiles. So gentle. One thumb strokes Dick’s cheekbone, just like it used to when he was two heads and thirty pounds of muscle smaller and would still climb into bed with Bruce every time he had a nightmare. “I’m proud of you, Dick. You’re a wonderful brother and a wonderful son.” He pulls Dick into a hug, and Dick _goes,_ wraps his arms tight around his dad. 

“I love you,” Bruce says quietly in his ear. 

“I love you too, Bruce,” Dick says, trying not to tear up, and failing just a little. “Dad.”

“The offer to get you a dog, too, is still open,” Bruce adds. “Just so you know.”

“Dad!” Dick laughs. “You know my apartment has a no pets rule.” 

“Which you already flaunt with three aquariums. I can just buy the building, if it’s that much of an issue.”

“No, Bruce. I like my landlord. I like being a grown up. Let me have this,” Dick says, pulling back just enough to grin at Bruce. 

“I know, buddy,” Bruce says. He returns the smile. “I’m just reminding you. If you ever want a pet…”

“I know who to ask,” Dick says. “Thanks, B. I’m good. I’ve got enough brothers to worry about right now without adding any four-legged friends to the mix. But maybe someday.”

“Okay,” says Bruce. He glances over at the table and sighs. “Guess I should get back to the quarterly reviews.” He sounds pained. 

“Poor baby,” Dick coos in mock sympathy. “It must be so hard, being a multibillionaire CEO. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Get out of here before I rope you into it too,” Bruce warns, swatting Dick’s shoulder as he turns to head back to the table. 

_“RICHARD!”_ Damian’s shout echoes through the hall.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Dick says, grinning. “Good luck, Bruce. Have fun with all the numbers. I’m gonna go cuddle a puppy.”

“Enjoy,” Bruce says. “And Dick! Make sure Damian actually comes down for dinner, too. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten how he was when we brought Titus home.”

“Will do, B!” Dick shouts back over his shoulder has he sprints up the stairs. He leaps up them three at a time, and calls up over the banister, “Coming, Little D! Almost there.”

They may have failed at subterfuge around Bruce, as usual. But at least they gained a puppy, and very loved and _very_ happy Damian, and in Dick’s book? That’s what really matters most.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come chat with me or send in prompts over on [tumblr!](https://goldkirk.tumblr.com/) I hope you all have a lovely day/night. Remember to hydrate and eat and take any meds you need, and to get as much sleep as you can!


End file.
